


together

by shewolves (therinfal)



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 16:45:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3454391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therinfal/pseuds/shewolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The "we're std free" celebration was postponed indefinitely, but Connor still finds himself in Oliver's bed, under different circumstances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	together

“... be in this together.”  
  
Connor believed in self-determination. He believed that he was pushing himself forward, that he held the cards, that his life was his for the taking. But in that moment, he felt drawn towards Oliver in a way unlike anything before, like he had no control over his limbs, like his heart flipped a switch and overrode every other thought in his head, replacing it with an immediate: “Comfort him.”  
  
Climbing into his bed, over the scattered knots of tissues, over the thick mess of blankets, Connor found Oliver's face with both hands. His hands found his face, and his lips found the dip of his furrowed brow.  
  
Even his forehead tasted like tears.  
  
Connor's stomach churned with worry, even as his thumbs brushed over Oliver's temples, even as his mouth formed quiet _ssh_ s that he didn't remember wanting to make. He felt like he was watching this from across the room, from where he stood when Oliver told him the news, like there was another man in Oliver's bed being a good lover to him.

But there wasn't. He felt Oliver's warm skin under his hands, felt his damp cheeks, heard every shaky breath, every wet sniff.

“We will be,” Connor murmured, and this time he was the one who moved his tongue, who found the words he wanted to say. “Not- not in that way, but I'll be here, alright? I'm not going anywhere. You're  _not_ doing this alone.”

Oliver tried to shake his head, but couldn't in Connor's grip. He settled for a weak, “I can't... Look, you've got enough problems. You're clean. That's- it's _good news_. You deserve good news.”

“You're not breaking up with me because of this.” 

There was an intensity in Connor's voice that pulled Oliver back far enough to look him in the eye. With his hands still cradling Oliver's cheeks, he continued. “We've been through so much shit, Oliver. I'm not- I'm not going to _abandon_ you like this. I'm here, alright? And I'm staying here. Nothing's changed.”  
  
“A lot's changed.”  
  
“It hasn't,” Connor told him in a fierce whisper. “I'm still the fuck up in this relationship, and you're still the guy I can't stop thinking about and probably don't deserve. You're still- you're still _perfect_. Alright?” Oliver narrowed his eyes at him, and Connor gripped onto him a little tighter. “ _Alright_?”

-

Oliver was a strong guy. How many gay men could tell someone like Connor _no_ when his hands lingered over their hips and his mouth parted for them? Not many. But he could tell Connor _no_. He could tell Connor to _get out_. He could tell Connor _you made a mistake_.

When he opened his mouth, a sob escaped first, and Connor pulled him into the curve of his neck.

For the first time since that afternoon, his crying was different. It wasn't the wretched, lonely, hopeless sobbing that overcame him after the call. It was relieved, grateful sobbing.

He hoped Connor knew the difference.


End file.
